CONFUSION STAGE

Welcome to the third installment of the wedding series. I appreciate all of you who have read. A special thank you to The Jewels who have supported me since I began sharing my thoughts.Maybe one day I will tell you about The Jewels.

                                                             *THREE*
I made up my mind that He was neither the man I had nurtured in my head nor was he the man I wanted to be with.
This decision had two parts.

Part One:
During one of our Facebook or text messages conversations, things took a deep turn. This always happens when you extend boy girl conversations well into ungodly hours. Darkness always invites a certain kind of vibe. It was during this time that it accidentally slipped that HE was in a relationship. Not the one with Jesus or his mother. You remember the torch that I had kept lit for him all this time? Yes? It just went out. It hurt so bad. I dont know why I had expected him to be faithful to a primary school fling but...The thing about me, although I hate it; I prefer to be told things in plain black or white. i do not have the mechanism in me to read in between lines. My DNA omits that in installation.Now that I am older, just knowing that about myself makes navigating life a little easier.With the knowledge that that was the way I am wired came a certain kind of freedom. I am able to now unashamedly ask anyone to clarify what it is they are saying even though it may seem obvious to the rest of the people. I give it in black and white and so I expect to receive in black and white.
I digress.
In my naive Kakamega mind, he had committed a grave sin. Even though boys did not look my way, I still felt that I had wasted valuable time holding out hope that he too was waiting for the day we shall finally re unite. Nevertheless, I still listened to him as he tried hard to come back from the slip up. He was offering many sentences in the form of apologies.It was past mid-night and even though I am a night owl, I suddenly felt tired. The conversation suddenly became too boring and heading to nothingness. In the midst of both of us trying to recover, he from slipping up and I from the shock of being" Cheated on",somebody suggested that we meet physically.Hence, He coming to Kahawa Wendani.

Part two:
I met him at the stage near Magunas Supermarket. I do not like boys/ men younger than me. They exude some level of immaturity that I am unable to handle. I am a firstborn who was tasked with responsibility and expected to honor them at an early age. I blame my position with younger men on this. One of the things I particularly disliked about younger guys was their embracing of the  fashion trend that was skinny jeans. Guess what?!!!!!!#####!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, you guessed  right alright. He showed up in a pair of skinny jeans. I could not turn back at that moment. I had to see this meeting through.
We exchanged an awkward hug. I still had not gotten a hung of this hugging men thing as a greeting but it was one of the things I had to learn if I was to successfully transition from a village girl to a town girl."dem wa uni". There was another factor that aided in my decision. My head HE was an Alehandro( i will only ever elaborate this at gunpoint) He. This one standing before me was so ordinary. I found it difficult to reconcile the two.
I am a terrific actor, so I bought him chapo Madondo at a cafe. I did not buy from the women with many sufurias selling different cereals. The perfection spirit had swiftly made a comeback as soon as I set my eyes on him. I feigned confidence as I pulled the remaining two hundred shilling note from my wallet. The food had cost me one hundred and sixty shillings. As I put my forty shillings back in my purse, I ticked fail in my head. He had failed the second test. He did not offer to pay for the food. Had he come all this way to eat my food. He could at least have offered to buy soda. He has never given me a good enough explanation for this unacceptable behavior to date.  We walked the dusty Kahawa Wendani road and landed at my extremely humble abode. It was truly an abode as it consisted of my bed, a table and my suitcases. One on the bed and the other under the bed. Even as I offered him a bed, I regretted ever agreeing to meet him at my place. I felt so embarrassed that my ears became hot. I served him and we ate in silence. I had to stop eating because even my eating was not perfect enough. He has this piercing gaze that made it impossible to do anything without feeling like he was watching my every move. The last thing I wanted was to make a fool of myself in front of him. Our talking problem reared its head higher than ever that afternoon. Oh, it was the most awkward meeting I have ever had with anyone. When I could not take it anymore, I made up an excuse about a group discussion I had nearby. I needed to tell my friend about the encounter. I walked him a few meters to the road. No sooner had he left my sight than I blocked him on my phone and on social media.

As I negotiated a corner toward my friends house, I knew that I would never see him nor talk to him again. Things took an interesting turn for the village girl. I found myself a bad guy who taught me unhelpful things like skipping class to just sit in a campus room and walk the walk of shame severally. I one day walked this walk pregnant.I left him. I found myself a smooth talking Luo guy who was smitten by me. I left him too. I then reconnected with my Luo guy. We tried. He left me.
Between my escapades with these men, HE was always in the picture.I would block and unblock him but he was always there.When the skipping class guy got me pregnant, I got even more confused. I could not believe I had lost my virginity in campus and in a campus room. I could not bear to be me. I wished I could run away and leave myself. I had never let myself down to that level. I felt I had lost something precious.I was a mess.

I thought about suicide but did not like my options. I had settled for poison but did not know how to go buy it without being asked so many questions. I am a good actor but a bad liar when asked straight questions. I did not want to mutilate myself because the pain would be too much for me to bear. I did think of a jiko but where would I get one. Besides, I was not good at lighting jikos. Also, I did not want to end  up in hell. I shelved the suicide idea. I settled for an  abortion. I did research which is amazingly readily available. I met nurses in reputable hospitals who were willing to help me. Their only concern was that I would be able to rest because of the heavy bleeding after the operation. I had everything ready. I gathered money fro various sources including the seed planter , bought many pads and cotton wool and waited for morning. At midnight, my friend called me and spent the better part of the night talking me out of the abortion. She promised to walk with me through the whole process which she did. She took great care of me like I was her daughter.(This is for another day.)

The next morning, I left for school. I was constantly in thoughts of awaited me in the future. Death seemed like a peaceful option but I could not find a reason to convince myself to go through with it. HE and I were in a season of unblocking so we were back to chatting. I typed," I am Pregnant." He typed," I love you." I blocked him. Those were the very words that had put me in the predicament I was in. I did not need them. I could not handle them. He later explained that it was a desperate attempt to keep me since he thought I was only telling him that to push him away. I dont know hwy he thought because I rarely tell straight lies. Most of the lies I tell are of omission. When I talk, I tell it and I tell it in plain black and white.

That block was the longest one. It was during this time that I met Luo guy for a take two. I would later learn that he also met his person. When Luo guy left me, I was a free bird. I had decided to try and be single for  a while.I was just figuring out my life. My son was four years old at the time. I had just enrolled for masters. I had unblocked most people I had blocked in my younger years. He had made the cut. I could not bring myself to talk to him and explain that the block had been made out of pain this time and had nothing to do with him.

Then, what would be the beginning of a series of miracles happened.

* to be continued..... 

TEMPORARY SEPARATION

Welcome to the second installment. I really appreciate the feedback from the first installment.

               *TWO*

The end of primary school meant the beginning of a new season in my life. I call it upper adolescence. The changes in the body really begin to take shape. With the changes come the emotions. It's a confusing time because it's the time when one needs the most love yet rejects it the most. It's like a child being forced to fit in a big body and expected to act like their body yet has no capacity to do so. Adults around me would sometimes tease me about how my perky my breasts were. (This is just wrong) . What they did not realize was that the little uncalled for teases would mount up to low self esteem and body hate. This would last until I was well into my adult life.

One of the things that helped me cope with my confusing situation was the hope that I would re-unite with him. I still held out hope despite the farewell letter. At the back of my mind, I knew that there was somebody who cared for me regardless of what form my body took.

We tried to communicate via phone. I did not own one so I had to use my mother's. He could not text me because my mother would have found these messages. He had to call. As aforementioned, we were not good at talking to each other. Something happened when we heard the other person's voice. I for one began to tremble and words simply refused to leave my lips. Our telephone communication did not go well and when I joined high school, it stopped.

Despite having no communication, I held out hope that we would one day meet and pick up from where we left off. He was constantly on my mind. This hope helped a little bit when none of the cute guys during school outings paid any attention to me. I lived in a fantasy where my prince charming also spent his time wondering about whatever happened to his sharp tongue princess. I was struggling with my studies(too many subjects). I had to go through this struggle 'on my own'.He was not there to help me in the areas that were difficult. Still, sometimes I made an effort just because I imagined that wherever he was, he too was making an effort. I conjured images of him as a man in my head. I didn't mind when my classmates received letters from boys because I was so sure that he was waiting for me. He would be on the other side of what I considered a temporary separation.

One day, a girl in a lower class came to me and asked if I knew him. My defences went up. This time it was not because of competition rather because of fear. My all girls high school was a strictly no boys zone. If the administration even heard a rumor that one of us as much as looked at a boy, the girl in question was in hot soup seasoned with the strongest pepper available. I had enough problems as it were. I could not afford to add "boys" to my list. Still, I cautiously gave the girl who would later turned out to be his family friend audience. It was a short message. "he says HI".

The effort to reach me dwarfed the brevity of the message. Once again, I felt special and honored. He did not contact me again through my high school.

I completed high school without pomp and quickly joined campus a few months after my final exams. I carried the ever lighting torch for him to campus.

 Campus was different from anything I had ever experienced. There was freedom.
Armed with my huge baggage of body image and self esteem issues, I began the next phase of my life. One that would ultimately shape the rest of it. There was so much to learn. One of them was Facebook.

It would be on Facebook that we reconnected. Since we were typing, it was a lot easier to communicate. We would catch up as friends but never once actually spoke to one another. What both of us did not realize was that, while we were on our "temporary separation", we had evolved into different people. We had shared different experiences and developed different outlooks on life.

I was at the University in Nairobi. I would finish school and get a good job. I had lived with my imaginary him that I actually believed in my heart that he looked like that. In my quest to transform from a village girl to a city one, I began to live my life against what I saw with my classmates and what I saw in the movies. I wanted an "Alejandro" handsome man with cars, on ewho would instantlysee me and take me to the movies and buy me nice jewelery and clothes. Oh, I cringe when I think of that time in my life.

We planned to physically meet. I am not sure how. He came to Kahawa which is where I lived. I took  one llok at him and made up my mind.

*... To be continued....

THE GENESIS

Prologue
This is a series based on the journey leading to my wedding and after. I learned many things. I also experienced a lot that made me grow up fast. I hope that as you read through the following pieces, you will learn a few things too. While I appreciate that all of our scenarios in life are different, we all learn from the experiences of those around us. In order for growth to be achieved, it is important to be open to learning. During the period of my wedding, I felt pushed and tested but I also picked up lessons. Some useful-some not so much.
 
EPISODE 1

               
                 **THE GENESIS**

I had a long, difficult adolescent period. My body was undergoing so many changes that I didn't know how to handle. I had read about these changes in class but all who told me about them skipped the part where they were to tell me how to handle all these changes. My mother tried, she told me to stay clean, to wear a brallete for my breast and to buy a Deodorant for the sweat. We never got to the part that tackled my ever increasing attraction toward members of the opposite sex. I don't know who told me but I always knew that it was prudent to wait to have sex after marriage. That was about all the sex education I received. I would later learn that sex with "boys" would get me pregnant.

Armed with my meager knowledge about what awaited me, I stepped into my adolescent life. I was eleven years old when I noticed my breasts sprouting. I was the only one in my class who was undergoing these changes so I did the best I could to hide them. I wore my heavy red jacket through the day and only took it off when I got home. I only got comfortable walking without my jacket when a few other girls sprouted breasts and they didn't water jackets. That made me feel safe and only then did I believe that I was okay.

 I sailed through the next couple of classes going through the motions. I didn't know I could talk to someone about what I felt. I learned to go through my problems until they fizzled out or I found a way out. This is a skill I carried with me through my adulthood. I began to dress differently so that I could catch the attention of the older boys around me. For some reason, I did not fancy the boys in my class. They seemed so childish. My confusion coupled with my need to be perfect led me to set up some defences of my own in order to cope. I increasingly became isolated and developed a sharp tongue which made people think twice before they interacted with me. I moved my desk to the back of the class and stayed without a desk mate through my class six and part of class seven as it was known then.

He walked into my class and my heart literally skipped a beat. And after that it began to beat fast and would not slow down. Since I was the only one without a desk mate, he was assigned to be my desk mate. I noticed on the spot that he was a little older than my classmates and I felt so excited. In his presence, I felt the need to be perfect. In his presence, I felt like the quality of air was different. I have never known how but I learned so much about him in a very short while. The reason why I did not know how I had all that information about him is because he and I rarely spoke to each other. We communicated almost telepathically.

He had a certain inexplicable effect on me even at that age. I loved it but I didn't know how to handle it. I needed to be and feel perfect under his gaze. Despite my sprouting breasts being a source of embrassment at the beginning of my adolescence, they were now a source of pride. This is because in my eyes, he was an older boy who would appreciate my "becoming into a woman". I was now eager to try out bras because I had someone to show my body off to. I could not wait to take my sweater off so that he could see that I was not such a small girl.

I took it upon myself to watch over him and take care of him. I told myself that one day I would marry him. We found a way to mutually help one another in our studies. I was poor in science while he was poor in English. We found a way to help each other out. Without words, there was a certain push between us that made us want to make it on behalf of the other. We were a team and both of us worked hard for the team. Needless to say, we both passed our final exams.

There are moments that still stand out in my life to this day. Moments where he made me feel so special. He made me feel I mattered.

The first was where he wrote me a short note asking if we could be together. He first apologized and then proceeded to state his case. This gesture melted my heart. It was the first letter I had received from a boy any age.

Secondly, he was careful to apologize incase he had offended me. In hindsight, I think he wrote that because he knew how explosive I could be. Still, it was sweet. Of course, I replied in the affirmative. I had to get boy letter writing skills from my friend but I sent one back.

The second was a lyric newspaper cut out. Mmmmh, those lines were deep.

The third was a success card for my KCPE exams. The only other people who had sent me a card that size were my parents. It was around this period that a certain girl who was my namesake and a class lower than me presented herself as my competitor. She flaunted a small success card she had sealed and addressed to him on my face for so many days before informing me that she had sent it. For the first time since my interaction with him, I felt a tad jealous.

However, what he did is and will forever be etched in mind. It is the most special thing a man has ever done to me even though technically at the time he was a boy.
He sent me a second card that same evening that the small girl had sent hers. This was to reassure me that we were good.

We sat our final exam. He sent me what was to be the last letter he would ever write me. In it, he was basically asking me to prepare for our separation because he was not sure we were ever going to see each other again. I cried my heart out but there was little I could change. I was to later meet him when I was in second year in campus.
       
                **. - End of part one-  **

FINALLY LEAVING THE BRIDGE...

A lot of water had run under the bridge but Bridget was still at the bridge. Sure, a lot of things had also happened at the bridge but the point is, she was STILL at the bridge. The bridge where it had all ended. A 3 year relationship with Daniel. One day she was in a relationship and then she was not.

Bridget was married now. His name was Ralph. He and Daniel were as different as night and day. Sometimes, when she was alone with her thoughts, Bridget would often wonder how she could have loved these two men who nothing alike. Ralph was simply a good human being. He was a happy person. Ralph was proud to be the man that he was and that is what made him the most attractive.Of course he is also very good to look at.

Bridget almost chocked on the strawberry-vanilla milkshake she was having at a popular cafe. That voice-she knew that voice. Daniel always said her name with a certain thick luhya accent which made it sound like it had way more syllables than was intended. "Bree-jee--ti. " She quickly composed herself before she looked up and almost certain she had achieved the clam necessary, she managed a smile and replied, "Hi, Wafs". Wafs is short for Wafula. That's what she called him during their time together. In his typical way of making himself look polished and important, he continued, "Wow, long time. May I sit?" Bridget simply pointed to the chair. This resignation was a result of her unsuccessfully trying to find an excuse for not allowing his request.

Now what?
"So, how are you?", she began, determined to take the lead of the conversation. "I see your posts on Instagram(Bridget was not one of those who said IG), they are quite motivational." she  concluded her opening speech.
Wafs readied himself to respond, in his typical "maringo" way. The English word eludes me. Bridget remembered how  that particular habit had always annoyed her and she inwardly congratulated herself for not being with the man. She briefly allowed herself to compare Wafs to her husband. Her husband would smile for a couple of seconds. Then, he would go on to ask how she was doing?
In other words, Ralph was genuinely interested in the affairs of her life. Wafs was always on the defense even when there was no case or attack.

The familiar slurr of her name brought her back from her wandering thoughts.
 "Bri-ji-tee, eih, kwani akili iko wapi?" he was asking.She felt her lips thin out into a "smile".
Looking at the man in front of her brought back all the times she felt inadequate at his side. She remembered all the times she struggled to change herself so that he would look at her as someone whole, no, scratch that, something whole. She looked at him and remembered the way he worked hard to transform her into a trophy girl. She particularly remembered the day he was so mad at her for not dusting the house because she had to go for an early audition. Bridget was an aspiring actor. She ran a hand on her head and remembered how she had endured the heat of weaves on her head because Wafs did not like women who cut their hair. Bridget clearly remembered how frustrated she felt because she could not be herself. Most of all, Bridget remembered how he had simply let go of their relationship the moment she dared to show her true self. When she tried to grow wings, he simply let her go.

This had hurt her for a long time. She did not understand many things but she had finally gotten to the point that she had forgiven herself. She had forgiven herself for not being strong enough. For giving the responsibility of being happy, of being her true self  to somebody else. Bridget suddenly looked up and readied herself to get the closure she had always wanted to.

"Listen Wafs," she started.
"... Na unakaa poa, umekata weight..." Wafs began. Bridget cut him short right there.
"You ended what we had. You could not allow me to grow without being in your clutches. You wanted to monitor how far I flew. You wanted to change me into a trophy woman. You wanted a different woman who was not me. You were lazy and afraid to fight for me and for us. You were not man enough to accept me for me. You imagined that your six figure salary would impress me and when it did not, you let me drop. You expected me to worship the floor you walked on. You refused to accept that all I wanted was the real you because you did not accept the real you. "

" The way you ended things left no room for friendship. That bridge was burned down.You burned it down, completely razed it to the ground. So, I will appreciate it if you  kept your conversations to a bare minimum of a courteous hallo. Anything past that should only be because I am the last person left on earth to save your life. Whether I am fat or thin, or look good or bad is beyond your scope of concerns. "

With that passionate speech, Bridget opened  the cheque  on the table and slid in a crisp 1000 note, took her bag and stood to leave.

She somewhat felt lighter. As she turned to look at Wafs sitting at the table wondering what to do with himself, Bridget knew she had made the first steps away from the bridge. She was finally and firmly on the other side.

The 🌉 🌉  had not only been crossed but she knew that it had been completely destroyed. With a new spring in her step, she walked into the hot Nairobi afternoon.

          - THE END-

LESSONS I LEARN FROM MY SON...

Wow, It's unbelievable that I have not written in more than two years. I love writing and I am good at it. This means that I have no excuse for not writing and as cliche as I am about to sound, 2020 is my year!!! Here we go:
 Due to certain circumstances, I was only able to start living with my son last year(2019).We always had a beautiful connection and friendship but it's different when we have to live together and hear him call me"mum". I have gotten to learn a lot about him as a child(my child) and as a person - away from a child I would visit during the holidays-. That one has changed me in a few ways that I would like to share.

 Honesty-I have been known to speak in a way that most people consider "filterless". My child is very direct in his conversations.It could be the childish gullibility that all children have but seeing it from my son's perspective, I have began toappreciate the way I speak and began to accept that the way I speak is not a flaw. It's just the way I speak. Its just easier to speak what I am thinking.People can always adjust.

 Patience-Oh Lord! Give me GRACE!!!! This has been my prayer lately. My child is a very sweet boy with a very adult - like thinking mind since he has grown up around adults for the most part of his life. It is very easy to forget that he is just a 7 year old boy trying to be a child.It is during these manifestations of his child side that buttons are really pushed. Patience is not a virtue I have naturally(it is something I nurture everyday). However, living with my boy has been one hell of a patience crash course.

 Listening-Looking at this child of mine now, no one would know that he had speech challenges earlier in his life. He has developed into a very talkative boy with a noticeably vast vocubalry. He speaks really fast and randomly offers bits of information. One has to be very keen when he calls to your attention what he is talking about. He could decide to talk about an incident at school at 9pm when you just want to sleep or about a new animal he has learned about when you are cooking a complicated dish for your husband. I am unable to just hear him because if I want to learn about who he is, I have to LISTEN to him. If I am to create a relationship with him, then I have to LISTEN to him. Respond, don't react. This was the best lesson I have learned. It happened one day as I was doing dishes. He came up to me and said, "Mum, don't shout too much, why do you shout too much?" What followed was a very insightful conversation about how I react to things he does. In his own way, he basically asked me not to resort to the "mwiko" (this is a wooden spoon that I use to spank him as a way of disciplining him). That conversation was such an eye opener. It probably has been the biggest eye opener for me as a mother. I am proud of myself for working on that area of my life. I have to say, responding, as opposed to reaction: saves so much stress and opens the door to more fun and more living.

 Yeah,those are the quick lessons I have picked up from my son. Our son - mother relationship is so special because we need each other to live. I have just met my son, I am learning how to talk to him, how to relate to him, how to demonstrate love to him, how to defend him and basically how to physically be his mother.

I am so blessed to have a son like mine. To be bestowed upon this responsibility of moulding a fragile boy to an independent adult capable of handling life. By God's special grace, this child will be the best version he can be and he will live out his God created purpose.
It's my prayer for all my first-born. My son. My Prince 🤴

BUT IT WAS LOVE...

I was happy.
I was contented.
I had finally found him,my "the one".
He was very funny and actually got all my jokes. This does not happen often.They say that I have an interesting sense of humor.But he got it,and he laughed.
I think my previous relationship was just bad because in him I found a sense of wholeness.
I felt happier.

Maybe I had just grown up more than the last time and my expectations were a little more sensible but at the time I was completely happy.
Well,I was completely happy with him until he introduced me to his brother.

Now,dont you judge me you "judgers".
At least not until you hear my story.
You see,let me first label these two men so that we do not get lost as I let you in on my story.

Guy 1 ,we shall name Jay and Guy 2,meaning the brother,we shall name Jay.Good...

So Jay is a wildlife photographer which means that he is just busy.
I got together with him because he is also a creative- like me.
But sometimes I don't see ahead and therefore did not anticipate the nights I would spend alone in bed waiting for him.And then,he would come in the wee hours of the morning to take a shower and go back to work.
That arrangement therefore left me with the Kay option.

I need to say they are a cool charismatic family by the way.
So,we got to talking,turns out he was into fitness and diet and all things healthy .

That's very attractive in a man especially for a lonely girl.
One bike ride in Karura  Forest led to a mountain hike in Mt.Longonot and finally the grand finale which was witnessed by Jay on the couch.It was not possible to explain the very compromising situation that Kay and I were in.

Here is the most interesting twist(yes,I will just go ahead and tell you where the twist in my story is),Kay did not fling me aside and try to deny what was happening.No,we did not continue and no it was not sex,just compromising.
Things a brother and a brothers girlfriend should not be doing.

Kay and Jay just stood there looking at each other,the pain of the double betrayal paralyzing Jay right where he stood.Then Kay did something that was both stupid and heroic,he said," Bro,I love her."

It was between those words properly reaching my ears and me digesting them that Jay landed a heavy blow on his brothers face which sent him spiralling on the glass table.
Blood spattered all over the red and white carpet which Kay had once told me was Jays pride and joy.It was  his first year project in school.

It was in that moment I looked at Kays body that I knew that my life would not be the same should Kay die.
I dont know when I made the switch but it had happened.I hated Jay for what he had done to Kay.

Okay,for those who really want to know what happened to Kay and not focus on the fact that I chose one brother over the other,I will tell you.
Kay passed away on that table.Jay took flight but was arrested soon after and is now cooling his murderous self in a Kenyan maximum security prison.

I have not found what I had with the brothers.I am cooling my- what Kays mother called-' devilish spawn' self in a mental institution somewhere.My doctor told me that writing would help me get better .They believe I was sick but I am just a girl who found too much love in one house and then it was no more.

Love is...Part two

...I tried looking for the pain in my heart but it was absent. Mostly I just felt stupid. It was so clear now the eyes of my heart hurt.

Of course this was Sandra- the primary school sweetheart he would not shut up  about. I had thought(and thankfully so) that she had moved to the United States.  From the little I had heard from my Paul she was a terrific actor. So good was she that she had gotten a full scholarship to go study arts in some prestigious drama school, Brown University.

 She was back!

Paul would spend a good chunk of our time together talking about his long lost love. The funniest bit is that I would listen, even though I knew he had simply settled: for me.
I convinced myself that it was still okay since I was second best and he was the best thing that had ever happened to my life. I had met a couple of ... - how do I put it gently- different men in my time and I guess I was not ready to let an amazing man like Paul go because I was not the last thing he thought about when he went to sleep.
Paul made me feel important. He made me feel like I really  could conquer anything in my life. Paul was so caring it almost seemed unreal. He did not open doors or hold my hand while going down the stairs(I think just like me, he figured that the stairs had rails or I could just go down slowly and carefully), but he did open my mind to possibilities. Possibilities of happiness, of hope, of better. These happy moments were special in spite of the cloud of the loss of Sandra(meaning they had lost touch since primary school)always hanging on our heads. I welcomed this cloud as a shield from the harsh realities of relationships such as cheating and spite. Paul treated me so well; maybe he felt guilty because he knew deep down that he could never give me his all. Paul had accepted me inspire of all my short comings. We had been through so much together,he and I.

I was jerked out of my thoughts by that voice that I knew now I would never forget in spite of whatever would happen in that room.
“Purity...” Instantly, his hands tightened around the sleepy Sandra when she stirred awake.
The scene unfolding before my eyes was nothing short of amazing.
“P, what’s going on.” A sleepy, slightly raspy voice asked beside him.

P.? That’s what she called Him? P was a short for Paul (for the benefit of those who haven’t figured it out). He never used that name anymore. Once when we were in town, an old schoolmate of his from primary school called him that; P. He told me that that was a long time ago and that he now preferred to be called Paul or Baraka. Usually, I called him bae,baby,sweetheart,and any other sweet names I could find.
This Sandra woman just picked up from where they left off in primary school. P is the name she chose and when my man replied; “ I don’t know princess,”, I knew he liked it. The princess acted like royalty, completely  trusting her Knight in shining armour called P to handle matters. She did not move away but sought P’s hand and squeezed it.

Then they sat up and looked at me.
I cleared my throat, caressed the gun in my trench coat pocket and began my pitch because  clearly this royal couple was never going to.
“Sandra, yes?” I went on...,not addressing anyone in particular. “I came to kill you.”Now to add drama to my words, -I have always been dramatic-I took out my gun and placed it on the dressing table.
Again that protective hand gave a squeeze and her highness responded. Now,it started to irritate me.

I picked up my gun, cocked it and pointed at the Princess. “Slowly disentangle yourself from Paul and sit or sleep at the end of the bed,” I said. To my surprise, she did, without a word, just a slight, very quick it’s okay look to P. The distance between the two of them was now comfortable enough to look at and hold a productive exchange of ideas.

“Paul, you could have told me, you know,” I began my presentation .”I am not a monster and neither am I a piece of cheap chocolate that would melt at the slightest rise in temprature.I would get it. I would never force myself on you if you would exclusively told me that the one love of your life was back and that it’s she you wanted. I always knew I was the placeholder but you did not make any promises that you did not keep and I respected that, until now. You Paul should have told me.”

I was shouting now.

He just watched me and I could not help but remember the many times he had done that when I was ranting about one thing or the other especially about my job. He would always watch me talk and would only come in when he was certain I was finished. Normally, he would get the timing correct. Even though I wanted to be in control of the situation, I knew that in this particular situation, this was one I was not able to win. So, I picked another one; one I was sure I would win.

“Take a blanket or something and go sit out in the bathroom. Don't carry  a phone, you can read a magazine in the toilet ,”I directed my orders at the Princess. Within the help of my weapon (the cocked gun), I was able to reduce Paul’s protests to a blessed silence. The concern, worry, anxiety,  on his face were the victory badges I had been looking for.

Finally just Paul and me.

“You guys dress up after ...you know,”. This was how I had decided to begin my second half of the pitch. I have to say I was  not prepared for the answer I got though. I was totally disarmed .
“We are saving ourselves for marriage, ”he said.
What!!! The man I knew loved to have sex, although I have to agree he had been a bit elusive of late, okay maybe not a bit, but he loved it. Now, he was the same man sitting there explaining that he was holding it off until marriage. He was trying to tell me that he was willing to wait for the Princess until such a time as they got married. Paul was trying to tell me that the Princess meant that much to him.I am not saying I didn’t want him to wait for me, just that I didn’t ever believe that my being there, present would be enough to keep him. However, if we are being honest, I am trying to say that I don’t think such an arrangement would have worked with me.I was now jealous and that bitter saliva that would not get past the potato on my throat now threatened to inspire me to pull the trigger of my gun. I held it together,  I was jealous and a tad angry but I was not stupid.

“So, you two are a thing called what?” I soldiered on. “Are you lovers, friends, bed mates, companions, brother sister, “I enunciated my question just to make sure the answer I was given was the one to the question I had asked.i
“All of those, the brother and sister not so much.”
“How do you know you are all that.? “This was my counter.
Even as I asked, I realized that my interrogation had shifted from a need to understand why he would be with another woman in a hotel room whilst we were dating to a need to understand how they felt so right for each other, to understand  how they looked so right. I wanted to understand how he could care for the Princess with such a tenderness I had never experienced with him.

Paul went on and on about his princess explaining how they talked late into the night about everything-their work, they’re  school days. I saw his face light up when he described a restaurant they were working on. The Princess understood his work and exchanged ideas with him. I was a  business manager, I didn’t know much about design and decorating and of all things restaurants. He kept talking and as he did, I could see a light in his eyes that I had never seen before.

Right there, I knew that there were many things that could dim that light dancing in his eyes but me demanding that he didn’t leave me was not going to be one of them.I had lost my Paul,heck,I had never had him. I was holding a place for royalty and it was time to relinquish the spot.
“You are an amazing woman,I am just not the man for you, “ he said.
“I know that Paul....I was just never willing to accept that.  I guess I just wanted closure. You were a coward not to tell me when it was over though but I guess the Princess in the bathroom has covered that punishment.

“She is a lucky woman and the gun is not loaded.”

As I locked the door behind me,buttoning my coat, I knew I had done right by me. I walked out knowing I wanted what the Princess and her Knight had.

The crazy woman was helpful after all...